Read the passage and answer the following question.
The experience of voting in an Indian election is unique and welcomed by voters, especially those who come from socially disadvantaged sections. This small but significant detail is further reinforced by the civility of polling officials towards all voters and their care towards those who need help. The business of voting itself is thus accessible, efficient, takes minimum effort and the public holiday declared on polling day adds a festive note to it. For those who are routinely discriminated against on the basis of caste, colour, class and religion in everyday life—and millions of Indians experience these acutely—this extraordinary glimpse of egalitarianism is deeply valued.
Voting has thus become the most assertive way for citizens to inscribe their presence on the body politic. By showing up to vote, they avail of the chance of being counted and reminding the elite and the powerful that they exist, and in large numbers, and can therefore determine their political fates at elections. "The vote is our weapon," is a statement often used to describe this sense of empowerment. The voter is conscious of making the correct individual choice, which is always open to the influence of a caste group, kin or community or indeed money and muscle. But the secret ballot offers an opportunity to escape this pressure.
Election officials revealed that they, too, were fully aware of the responsibility of elections vested in them and anticipated their duties with a mixture of excitement and dread. In order to serve as officials, they are required to undergo training in three stages to learn their way around the electoral procedures and the enormous paperwork that it entails. Much of the training also anticipates what needs to be done when things go wrong or when the unexpected happens, such as the case of a visually impaired voter who requires help with the EVM.
Research has shown that voting is seen as a duty to exercise a foundational right that each citizen has and one that underpins all other claims—to food, education and security. Some even refer to it as their birthright. The responsibility to vote was further reinforced by tremendous peer pressure to not waste a vote. This was inadvertently created by the simple procedure followed by election officials of marking the left index finger of those who voted with a short vertical line in indelible black ink. While this is done to prevent fraudulence, it also creates peer pressure particularly in close-knit communities, as it is impossible to lie about having voted. To not have the ink mark on one's finger results in suspicion and questions about the reasons for not voting.
Therefore, to not vote is unthinkable for many marginalized citizens and is expressed in emphatic terms by many. While "to vote" continues to indicate a mechanism to express support for a chosen candidate or political party in an election, it has also acquired an affective meaning.
Q. Why, according to the passage, is voting in an Indian election a unique and welcoming experience for the socially disadvantaged?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
The experience of voting in an Indian election is unique and welcomed by voters, especially those who come from socially disadvantaged sections. This small but significant detail is further reinforced by the civility of polling officials towards all voters and their care towards those who need help. The business of voting itself is thus accessible, efficient, takes minimum effort and the public holiday declared on polling day adds a festive note to it. For those who are routinely discriminated against on the basis of caste, colour, class and religion in everyday life—and millions of Indians experience these acutely—this extraordinary glimpse of egalitarianism is deeply valued.
Voting has thus become the most assertive way for citizens to inscribe their presence on the body politic. By showing up to vote, they avail of the chance of being counted and reminding the elite and the powerful that they exist, and in large numbers, and can therefore determine their political fates at elections. "The vote is our weapon," is a statement often used to describe this sense of empowerment. The voter is conscious of making the correct individual choice, which is always open to the influence of a caste group, kin or community or indeed money and muscle. But the secret ballot offers an opportunity to escape this pressure.
Election officials revealed that they, too, were fully aware of the responsibility of elections vested in them and anticipated their duties with a mixture of excitement and dread. In order to serve as officials, they are required to undergo training in three stages to learn their way around the electoral procedures and the enormous paperwork that it entails. Much of the training also anticipates what needs to be done when things go wrong or when the unexpected happens, such as the case of a visually impaired voter who requires help with the EVM.
Research has shown that voting is seen as a duty to exercise a foundational right that each citizen has and one that underpins all other claims—to food, education and security. Some even refer to it as their birthright. The responsibility to vote was further reinforced by tremendous peer pressure to not waste a vote. This was inadvertently created by the simple procedure followed by election officials of marking the left index finger of those who voted with a short vertical line in indelible black ink. While this is done to prevent fraudulence, it also creates peer pressure particularly in close-knit communities, as it is impossible to lie about having voted. To not have the ink mark on one's finger results in suspicion and questions about the reasons for not voting.
Therefore, to not vote is unthinkable for many marginalized citizens and is expressed in emphatic terms by many. While "to vote" continues to indicate a mechanism to express support for a chosen candidate or political party in an election, it has also acquired an affective meaning.
Q. What, according to the passage, allows the voters to be free from influence of a "caste group, kin or community or indeed money and muscle" during elections?
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Read the passage and answer the following question.
The experience of voting in an Indian election is unique and welcomed by voters, especially those who come from socially disadvantaged sections. This small but significant detail is further reinforced by the civility of polling officials towards all voters and their care towards those who need help. The business of voting itself is thus accessible, efficient, takes minimum effort and the public holiday declared on polling day adds a festive note to it. For those who are routinely discriminated against on the basis of caste, colour, class and religion in everyday life—and millions of Indians experience these acutely—this extraordinary glimpse of egalitarianism is deeply valued.
Voting has thus become the most assertive way for citizens to inscribe their presence on the body politic. By showing up to vote, they avail of the chance of being counted and reminding the elite and the powerful that they exist, and in large numbers, and can therefore determine their political fates at elections. "The vote is our weapon," is a statement often used to describe this sense of empowerment. The voter is conscious of making the correct individual choice, which is always open to the influence of a caste group, kin or community or indeed money and muscle. But the secret ballot offers an opportunity to escape this pressure.
Election officials revealed that they, too, were fully aware of the responsibility of elections vested in them and anticipated their duties with a mixture of excitement and dread. In order to serve as officials, they are required to undergo training in three stages to learn their way around the electoral procedures and the enormous paperwork that it entails. Much of the training also anticipates what needs to be done when things go wrong or when the unexpected happens, such as the case of a visually impaired voter who requires help with the EVM.
Research has shown that voting is seen as a duty to exercise a foundational right that each citizen has and one that underpins all other claims—to food, education and security. Some even refer to it as their birthright. The responsibility to vote was further reinforced by tremendous peer pressure to not waste a vote. This was inadvertently created by the simple procedure followed by election officials of marking the left index finger of those who voted with a short vertical line in indelible black ink. While this is done to prevent fraudulence, it also creates peer pressure particularly in close-knit communities, as it is impossible to lie about having voted. To not have the ink mark on one's finger results in suspicion and questions about the reasons for not voting.
Therefore, to not vote is unthinkable for many marginalized citizens and is expressed in emphatic terms by many. While "to vote" continues to indicate a mechanism to express support for a chosen candidate or political party in an election, it has also acquired an affective meaning.
Q. What does the word 'egalitarianism' as used in the passage mean?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
The experience of voting in an Indian election is unique and welcomed by voters, especially those who come from socially disadvantaged sections. This small but significant detail is further reinforced by the civility of polling officials towards all voters and their care towards those who need help. The business of voting itself is thus accessible, efficient, takes minimum effort and the public holiday declared on polling day adds a festive note to it. For those who are routinely discriminated against on the basis of caste, colour, class and religion in everyday life—and millions of Indians experience these acutely—this extraordinary glimpse of egalitarianism is deeply valued.
Voting has thus become the most assertive way for citizens to inscribe their presence on the body politic. By showing up to vote, they avail of the chance of being counted and reminding the elite and the powerful that they exist, and in large numbers, and can therefore determine their political fates at elections. "The vote is our weapon," is a statement often used to describe this sense of empowerment. The voter is conscious of making the correct individual choice, which is always open to the influence of a caste group, kin or community or indeed money and muscle. But the secret ballot offers an opportunity to escape this pressure.
Election officials revealed that they, too, were fully aware of the responsibility of elections vested in them and anticipated their duties with a mixture of excitement and dread. In order to serve as officials, they are required to undergo training in three stages to learn their way around the electoral procedures and the enormous paperwork that it entails. Much of the training also anticipates what needs to be done when things go wrong or when the unexpected happens, such as the case of a visually impaired voter who requires help with the EVM.
Research has shown that voting is seen as a duty to exercise a foundational right that each citizen has and one that underpins all other claims—to food, education and security. Some even refer to it as their birthright. The responsibility to vote was further reinforced by tremendous peer pressure to not waste a vote. This was inadvertently created by the simple procedure followed by election officials of marking the left index finger of those who voted with a short vertical line in indelible black ink. While this is done to prevent fraudulence, it also creates peer pressure particularly in close-knit communities, as it is impossible to lie about having voted. To not have the ink mark on one's finger results in suspicion and questions about the reasons for not voting.
Therefore, to not vote is unthinkable for many marginalized citizens and is expressed in emphatic terms by many. While "to vote" continues to indicate a mechanism to express support for a chosen candidate or political party in an election, it has also acquired an affective meaning.
Q. Why does the author mention "visually impaired voter" when he describes the roles of election officials at the polling station?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
The experience of voting in an Indian election is unique and welcomed by voters, especially those who come from socially disadvantaged sections. This small but significant detail is further reinforced by the civility of polling officials towards all voters and their care towards those who need help. The business of voting itself is thus accessible, efficient, takes minimum effort and the public holiday declared on polling day adds a festive note to it. For those who are routinely discriminated against on the basis of caste, colour, class and religion in everyday life—and millions of Indians experience these acutely—this extraordinary glimpse of egalitarianism is deeply valued.
Voting has thus become the most assertive way for citizens to inscribe their presence on the body politic. By showing up to vote, they avail of the chance of being counted and reminding the elite and the powerful that they exist, and in large numbers, and can therefore determine their political fates at elections. "The vote is our weapon," is a statement often used to describe this sense of empowerment. The voter is conscious of making the correct individual choice, which is always open to the influence of a caste group, kin or community or indeed money and muscle. But the secret ballot offers an opportunity to escape this pressure.
Election officials revealed that they, too, were fully aware of the responsibility of elections vested in them and anticipated their duties with a mixture of excitement and dread. In order to serve as officials, they are required to undergo training in three stages to learn their way around the electoral procedures and the enormous paperwork that it entails. Much of the training also anticipates what needs to be done when things go wrong or when the unexpected happens, such as the case of a visually impaired voter who requires help with the EVM.
Research has shown that voting is seen as a duty to exercise a foundational right that each citizen has and one that underpins all other claims—to food, education and security. Some even refer to it as their birthright. The responsibility to vote was further reinforced by tremendous peer pressure to not waste a vote. This was inadvertently created by the simple procedure followed by election officials of marking the left index finger of those who voted with a short vertical line in indelible black ink. While this is done to prevent fraudulence, it also creates peer pressure particularly in close-knit communities, as it is impossible to lie about having voted. To not have the ink mark on one's finger results in suspicion and questions about the reasons for not voting.
Therefore, to not vote is unthinkable for many marginalized citizens and is expressed in emphatic terms by many. While "to vote" continues to indicate a mechanism to express support for a chosen candidate or political party in an election, it has also acquired an affective meaning.
Q. Why, according to the passage, is there peer pressure in close-knit communities to get people to vote?
Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
A man is said to pass through different stages in his lifetime. Dr. Wayne W. Dyer, in his book Manifest Your Destiny, makes an interesting categorisation of them as athlete stage, warrior stage, statesperson stage and spirit stage. It occurred to me that nations too make a similar transition and in extending this analogy to them, I have termed the last two stages big brother and self-realisation stages, respectively. The stages do not follow in sequence necessarily; they can be coexistent, with one aspect dominant.
In the first, athlete stage, a nation fresh from an independence struggle, or some other transition, embarks on an energetic pursuit of performance and achievement. This has happened in Japan, Singapore and Malaysia.
When a nation leaves this stage behind, it generally enters the warrior stage. Proud of its achievements, it finds ways to demonstrate its superiority over others, perhaps through conquest. Ego is the driving force. During this stage, people are busy with goals and achievements in competition with others and this, as Dyer points out for the individual, generates anxiety. Convincing others of its superiority becomes the theme.
In the next, big brother stage, the ego has been tamed somewhat and with its newfound maturity awareness shifts to what is important to other nations and societies. In the big brother stage, the nation is still an achiever, but it is not so obsessed with proving its strength. The idea is to help others become better. The erstwhile Soviet Union by its developmental role in some countries had adopted this role. As with the individual, so too with the nation, the transition from the warrior stage to the big brother stage is a rewarding but difficult exercise.
There is one stage even higher than this big brother stage. In this, a nation recognises its truest essence. It comes out of the wisdom that the earth is no single nation's inheritance but of all, and its people are aware of the responsibility of the individual towards his fellow human beings. This can be called the realisation stage, and India may have the potential to achieve it.
Q. Which of the following best expresses the author's main idea in the passage?
Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
A man is said to pass through different stages in his lifetime. Dr. Wayne W. Dyer, in his book Manifest Your Destiny, makes an interesting categorisation of them as athlete stage, warrior stage, statesperson stage and spirit stage. It occurred to me that nations too make a similar transition and in extending this analogy to them, I have termed the last two stages big brother and self-realisation stages, respectively. The stages do not follow in sequence necessarily; they can be coexistent, with one aspect dominant.
In the first, athlete stage, a nation fresh from an independence struggle, or some other transition, embarks on an energetic pursuit of performance and achievement. This has happened in Japan, Singapore and Malaysia.
When a nation leaves this stage behind, it generally enters the warrior stage. Proud of its achievements, it finds ways to demonstrate its superiority over others, perhaps through conquest. Ego is the driving force. During this stage, people are busy with goals and achievements in competition with others and this, as Dyer points out for the individual, generates anxiety. Convincing others of its superiority becomes the theme.
In the next, big brother stage, the ego has been tamed somewhat and with its newfound maturity awareness shifts to what is important to other nations and societies. In the big brother stage, the nation is still an achiever, but it is not so obsessed with proving its strength. The idea is to help others become better. The erstwhile Soviet Union by its developmental role in some countries had adopted this role. As with the individual, so too with the nation, the transition from the warrior stage to the big brother stage is a rewarding but difficult exercise.
There is one stage even higher than this big brother stage. In this, a nation recognises its truest essence. It comes out of the wisdom that the earth is no single nation's inheritance but of all, and its people are aware of the responsibility of the individual towards his fellow human beings. This can be called the realisation stage, and India may have the potential to achieve it.
Q. What does the author imply by mentioning Dyer's point about anxiety?
Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
A man is said to pass through different stages in his lifetime. Dr. Wayne W. Dyer, in his book Manifest Your Destiny, makes an interesting categorisation of them as athlete stage, warrior stage, statesperson stage and spirit stage. It occurred to me that nations too make a similar transition and in extending this analogy to them, I have termed the last two stages big brother and self-realisation stages, respectively. The stages do not follow in sequence necessarily; they can be coexistent, with one aspect dominant.
In the first, athlete stage, a nation fresh from an independence struggle, or some other transition, embarks on an energetic pursuit of performance and achievement. This has happened in Japan, Singapore and Malaysia.
When a nation leaves this stage behind, it generally enters the warrior stage. Proud of its achievements, it finds ways to demonstrate its superiority over others, perhaps through conquest. Ego is the driving force. During this stage, people are busy with goals and achievements in competition with others and this, as Dyer points out for the individual, generates anxiety. Convincing others of its superiority becomes the theme.
In the next, big brother stage, the ego has been tamed somewhat and with its newfound maturity awareness shifts to what is important to other nations and societies. In the big brother stage, the nation is still an achiever, but it is not so obsessed with proving its strength. The idea is to help others become better. The erstwhile Soviet Union by its developmental role in some countries had adopted this role. As with the individual, so too with the nation, the transition from the warrior stage to the big brother stage is a rewarding but difficult exercise.
There is one stage even higher than this big brother stage. In this, a nation recognises its truest essence. It comes out of the wisdom that the earth is no single nation's inheritance but of all, and its people are aware of the responsibility of the individual towards his fellow human beings. This can be called the realisation stage, and India may have the potential to achieve it.
Q. What does the word 'analogy' mean as used in the passage?
Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
A man is said to pass through different stages in his lifetime. Dr. Wayne W. Dyer, in his book Manifest Your Destiny, makes an interesting categorisation of them as athlete stage, warrior stage, statesperson stage and spirit stage. It occurred to me that nations too make a similar transition and in extending this analogy to them, I have termed the last two stages big brother and self-realisation stages, respectively. The stages do not follow in sequence necessarily; they can be coexistent, with one aspect dominant.
In the first, athlete stage, a nation fresh from an independence struggle, or some other transition, embarks on an energetic pursuit of performance and achievement. This has happened in Japan, Singapore and Malaysia.
When a nation leaves this stage behind, it generally enters the warrior stage. Proud of its achievements, it finds ways to demonstrate its superiority over others, perhaps through conquest. Ego is the driving force. During this stage, people are busy with goals and achievements in competition with others and this, as Dyer points out for the individual, generates anxiety. Convincing others of its superiority becomes the theme.
In the next, big brother stage, the ego has been tamed somewhat and with its newfound maturity awareness shifts to what is important to other nations and societies. In the big brother stage, the nation is still an achiever, but it is not so obsessed with proving its strength. The idea is to help others become better. The erstwhile Soviet Union by its developmental role in some countries had adopted this role. As with the individual, so too with the nation, the transition from the warrior stage to the big brother stage is a rewarding but difficult exercise.
There is one stage even higher than this big brother stage. In this, a nation recognises its truest essence. It comes out of the wisdom that the earth is no single nation's inheritance but of all, and its people are aware of the responsibility of the individual towards his fellow human beings. This can be called the realisation stage, and India may have the potential to achieve it.
Q. What role would a nation usually take up during the big brother stage?
Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
A man is said to pass through different stages in his lifetime. Dr. Wayne W. Dyer, in his book Manifest Your Destiny, makes an interesting categorisation of them as athlete stage, warrior stage, statesperson stage and spirit stage. It occurred to me that nations too make a similar transition and in extending this analogy to them, I have termed the last two stages big brother and self-realisation stages, respectively. The stages do not follow in sequence necessarily; they can be coexistent, with one aspect dominant.
In the first, athlete stage, a nation fresh from an independence struggle, or some other transition, embarks on an energetic pursuit of performance and achievement. This has happened in Japan, Singapore and Malaysia.
When a nation leaves this stage behind, it generally enters the warrior stage. Proud of its achievements, it finds ways to demonstrate its superiority over others, perhaps through conquest. Ego is the driving force. During this stage, people are busy with goals and achievements in competition with others and this, as Dyer points out for the individual, generates anxiety. Convincing others of its superiority becomes the theme.
In the next, big brother stage, the ego has been tamed somewhat and with its newfound maturity awareness shifts to what is important to other nations and societies. In the big brother stage, the nation is still an achiever, but it is not so obsessed with proving its strength. The idea is to help others become better. The erstwhile Soviet Union by its developmental role in some countries had adopted this role. As with the individual, so too with the nation, the transition from the warrior stage to the big brother stage is a rewarding but difficult exercise.
There is one stage even higher than this big brother stage. In this, a nation recognises its truest essence. It comes out of the wisdom that the earth is no single nation's inheritance but of all, and its people are aware of the responsibility of the individual towards his fellow human beings. This can be called the realisation stage, and India may have the potential to achieve it.
Q. As per the author, which of the following is the highest stage in a nation's evolution?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
The Statesman House contained a whole society frozen in a time warp. I had just started working there when I met the bard of the peons, Nanhe Singh.
"What's your name?" he whispered, beckoning me like a bookseller on College Street as I passed him in the corridor. "I shall make a poem from it. I have written poems about hundreds of people at the Statesman." Then he rattled them off one after the next. Over cups of half-pant tea, he would recite poems on Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, the Mughal emperor Akbar, or Indrani in the classified department. Nanhe wrote epic verse about Ram and Krishna, and he penned rib-tickling satires of local political leaders.
One morning, Mike called Imran and I to his office. Topiwala's son had gone missing. The boy was three and had wandered out of his mother's sight sometime that morning. Topiwala—the Hat Man, so called because he wore a golf cap at all times—was a lift-man, one of the legions of men from the downstairs world who were to remain unseen and unheard. Topiwala had come to Mike knowing he would be the most likely man upstairs to help. Mike turned to us.
In the afternoon, Imran and I took a trip across the Ganga to the city of Howrah, a cemetery of factories whose chimneys stood like tombstones. Topiwala stayed in a couple of rooms around a courtyard in a tenement. Less than a mile away was Howrah Station, where you could take a train to any destination from Kashmir to Kanyakumari. If the boy had been kidnapped, he could be anywhere in the country.
Imran and I trawled the lanes and main roads. We spoke to the neighbours, the landlord, the local political dadas, the boys at the para club. We chatted with the paan and cigarette sellers. The boy had last been seen at around 11 am. There were a couple of Bihari women in the para who begged professionally at Howrah Station every morning. Imran bantered so well in Bhojpuri that the beggar women offered to buy us tea. But they had seen nothing. No one had any leads.
But we made our presence felt: we were from the biggest English paper in Calcutta, and we were watching. Topiwala was not a man to be pushed around.
Over the next couple of days, we kept making calls to the local police station so that they would actually look for the boy. Two days later, the police found Topiwala's son not far from where he had disappeared. That was the only time in my life I have been bear-hugged by a battalion of lift-men.
To this day, Topiwala maintains that we found his son. Imran and I had done no such thing, really.
Q. According to the given passage, which of the following can be inferred about Nanhe Singh?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
The Statesman House contained a whole society frozen in a time warp. I had just started working there when I met the bard of the peons, Nanhe Singh.
"What's your name?" he whispered, beckoning me like a bookseller on College Street as I passed him in the corridor. "I shall make a poem from it. I have written poems about hundreds of people at the Statesman." Then he rattled them off one after the next. Over cups of half-pant tea, he would recite poems on Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, the Mughal emperor Akbar, or Indrani in the classified department. Nanhe wrote epic verse about Ram and Krishna, and he penned rib-tickling satires of local political leaders.
One morning, Mike called Imran and I to his office. Topiwala's son had gone missing. The boy was three and had wandered out of his mother's sight sometime that morning. Topiwala—the Hat Man, so called because he wore a golf cap at all times—was a lift-man, one of the legions of men from the downstairs world who were to remain unseen and unheard. Topiwala had come to Mike knowing he would be the most likely man upstairs to help. Mike turned to us.
In the afternoon, Imran and I took a trip across the Ganga to the city of Howrah, a cemetery of factories whose chimneys stood like tombstones. Topiwala stayed in a couple of rooms around a courtyard in a tenement. Less than a mile away was Howrah Station, where you could take a train to any destination from Kashmir to Kanyakumari. If the boy had been kidnapped, he could be anywhere in the country.
Imran and I trawled the lanes and main roads. We spoke to the neighbours, the landlord, the local political dadas, the boys at the para club. We chatted with the paan and cigarette sellers. The boy had last been seen at around 11 am. There were a couple of Bihari women in the para who begged professionally at Howrah Station every morning. Imran bantered so well in Bhojpuri that the beggar women offered to buy us tea. But they had seen nothing. No one had any leads.
But we made our presence felt: we were from the biggest English paper in Calcutta, and we were watching. Topiwala was not a man to be pushed around.
Over the next couple of days, we kept making calls to the local police station so that they would actually look for the boy. Two days later, the police found Topiwala's son not far from where he had disappeared. That was the only time in my life I have been bear-hugged by a battalion of lift-men.
To this day, Topiwala maintains that we found his son. Imran and I had done no such thing, really.
Q. According to the given passage, which of the following can be inferred about Mike?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
The Statesman House contained a whole society frozen in a time warp. I had just started working there when I met the bard of the peons, Nanhe Singh.
"What's your name?" he whispered, beckoning me like a bookseller on College Street as I passed him in the corridor. "I shall make a poem from it. I have written poems about hundreds of people at the Statesman." Then he rattled them off one after the next. Over cups of half-pant tea, he would recite poems on Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, the Mughal emperor Akbar, or Indrani in the classified department. Nanhe wrote epic verse about Ram and Krishna, and he penned rib-tickling satires of local political leaders.
One morning, Mike called Imran and I to his office. Topiwala's son had gone missing. The boy was three and had wandered out of his mother's sight sometime that morning. Topiwala—the Hat Man, so called because he wore a golf cap at all times—was a lift-man, one of the legions of men from the downstairs world who were to remain unseen and unheard. Topiwala had come to Mike knowing he would be the most likely man upstairs to help. Mike turned to us.
In the afternoon, Imran and I took a trip across the Ganga to the city of Howrah, a cemetery of factories whose chimneys stood like tombstones. Topiwala stayed in a couple of rooms around a courtyard in a tenement. Less than a mile away was Howrah Station, where you could take a train to any destination from Kashmir to Kanyakumari. If the boy had been kidnapped, he could be anywhere in the country.
Imran and I trawled the lanes and main roads. We spoke to the neighbours, the landlord, the local political dadas, the boys at the para club. We chatted with the paan and cigarette sellers. The boy had last been seen at around 11 am. There were a couple of Bihari women in the para who begged professionally at Howrah Station every morning. Imran bantered so well in Bhojpuri that the beggar women offered to buy us tea. But they had seen nothing. No one had any leads.
But we made our presence felt: we were from the biggest English paper in Calcutta, and we were watching. Topiwala was not a man to be pushed around.
Over the next couple of days, we kept making calls to the local police station so that they would actually look for the boy. Two days later, the police found Topiwala's son not far from where he had disappeared. That was the only time in my life I have been bear-hugged by a battalion of lift-men.
To this day, Topiwala maintains that we found his son. Imran and I had done no such thing, really.
Q. What does the word 'trawled' as used in the passage mean?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
The Statesman House contained a whole society frozen in a time warp. I had just started working there when I met the bard of the peons, Nanhe Singh.
"What's your name?" he whispered, beckoning me like a bookseller on College Street as I passed him in the corridor. "I shall make a poem from it. I have written poems about hundreds of people at the Statesman." Then he rattled them off one after the next. Over cups of half-pant tea, he would recite poems on Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, the Mughal emperor Akbar, or Indrani in the classified department. Nanhe wrote epic verse about Ram and Krishna, and he penned rib-tickling satires of local political leaders.
One morning, Mike called Imran and I to his office. Topiwala's son had gone missing. The boy was three and had wandered out of his mother's sight sometime that morning. Topiwala—the Hat Man, so called because he wore a golf cap at all times—was a lift-man, one of the legions of men from the downstairs world who were to remain unseen and unheard. Topiwala had come to Mike knowing he would be the most likely man upstairs to help. Mike turned to us.
In the afternoon, Imran and I took a trip across the Ganga to the city of Howrah, a cemetery of factories whose chimneys stood like tombstones. Topiwala stayed in a couple of rooms around a courtyard in a tenement. Less than a mile away was Howrah Station, where you could take a train to any destination from Kashmir to Kanyakumari. If the boy had been kidnapped, he could be anywhere in the country.
Imran and I trawled the lanes and main roads. We spoke to the neighbours, the landlord, the local political dadas, the boys at the para club. We chatted with the paan and cigarette sellers. The boy had last been seen at around 11 am. There were a couple of Bihari women in the para who begged professionally at Howrah Station every morning. Imran bantered so well in Bhojpuri that the beggar women offered to buy us tea. But they had seen nothing. No one had any leads.
But we made our presence felt: we were from the biggest English paper in Calcutta, and we were watching. Topiwala was not a man to be pushed around.
Over the next couple of days, we kept making calls to the local police station so that they would actually look for the boy. Two days later, the police found Topiwala's son not far from where he had disappeared. That was the only time in my life I have been bear-hugged by a battalion of lift-men.
To this day, Topiwala maintains that we found his son. Imran and I had done no such thing, really.
Q. Why, according to the author, was Topiwala not a man to be pushed around?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
The Statesman House contained a whole society frozen in a time warp. I had just started working there when I met the bard of the peons, Nanhe Singh.
"What's your name?" he whispered, beckoning me like a bookseller on College Street as I passed him in the corridor. "I shall make a poem from it. I have written poems about hundreds of people at the Statesman." Then he rattled them off one after the next. Over cups of half-pant tea, he would recite poems on Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose, the Mughal emperor Akbar, or Indrani in the classified department. Nanhe wrote epic verse about Ram and Krishna, and he penned rib-tickling satires of local political leaders.
One morning, Mike called Imran and I to his office. Topiwala's son had gone missing. The boy was three and had wandered out of his mother's sight sometime that morning. Topiwala—the Hat Man, so called because he wore a golf cap at all times—was a lift-man, one of the legions of men from the downstairs world who were to remain unseen and unheard. Topiwala had come to Mike knowing he would be the most likely man upstairs to help. Mike turned to us.
In the afternoon, Imran and I took a trip across the Ganga to the city of Howrah, a cemetery of factories whose chimneys stood like tombstones. Topiwala stayed in a couple of rooms around a courtyard in a tenement. Less than a mile away was Howrah Station, where you could take a train to any destination from Kashmir to Kanyakumari. If the boy had been kidnapped, he could be anywhere in the country.
Imran and I trawled the lanes and main roads. We spoke to the neighbours, the landlord, the local political dadas, the boys at the para club. We chatted with the paan and cigarette sellers. The boy had last been seen at around 11 am. There were a couple of Bihari women in the para who begged professionally at Howrah Station every morning. Imran bantered so well in Bhojpuri that the beggar women offered to buy us tea. But they had seen nothing. No one had any leads.
But we made our presence felt: we were from the biggest English paper in Calcutta, and we were watching. Topiwala was not a man to be pushed around.
Over the next couple of days, we kept making calls to the local police station so that they would actually look for the boy. Two days later, the police found Topiwala's son not far from where he had disappeared. That was the only time in my life I have been bear-hugged by a battalion of lift-men.
To this day, Topiwala maintains that we found his son. Imran and I had done no such thing, really.
Q. Why would Topiwala claim that the author and Imran found his son?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
Between grazing the cattle, farming and cooking, Amma hardly got a break. Her parents-in-law were not the only ones waiting to see how the daughters-in-law would run their families; the entire village was watching as well. This put pressure on Amma, who worked day and night in a frenzy.
It was the Tamil month of Thai, mid-January to mid-February. Though the millets had been harvested and threshed, the barren millet stalks needed to be pulled out in order to pluck the vegetables from the broad beans and cowpea creepers before they withered away in the sun. These were needed all round the year to make curries, but there wasn't any time to clear the field.
While Amma's mother-in-law remarked indirectly, "The field looks odd. The stalks look like roosters beheaded in a fight," her father- in-law told her, "Why don't you hire someone to pull out the stalks, girl?" The incomplete work on the field continued to bother Amma.
Later that night, when she took her elder son who wanted to pee and went outside the house, the moon shone so brightly that it seemed like noon. It was only a couple of days after full moon's day and more than three-fourths of the moon was out. It seemed to be calling out to her with arms wide open. There was a gentle nip in the air. The bright moon banished her sleep and fatigue. She thought she could pull out some of the millet stalks now. Her son was only happy to join her, excited by the idea of playing in the moonlight.
Amma locked up her husband, who lay in a drunken stupor inside the house, hoisted her ten-month-old on to her shoulders, held her five-year-old by hand and left for the fields.
She gave the lantern to her oldest. If she walked down the street, the dogs would bark and wake up the neighbours. It would become difficult to answer their questions. She could avoid the dogs if she walked through the field behind the house and went around the residential quarters, even if it added an extra half-mile to what should have been a mile's walk.
There was just one hurdle. There was a dense, thorny patch of the invasive karuvelam tree en route, spread over an area as big as two fields. The narrow path running across it could only fit one person at a time. And on that path, the karuvelam would block the moonlight, with only dappled light filtering in through the leaves. The lantern would come in handy. Amma was scared of snakes more than the darkness.
On the other side was a tar road leading to Erode, flanked on either side by dense tamarind trees. It would take only moments to cross the road, but there was another obstacle.
Q. Why, according to the author, did Amma feel under pressure?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
Between grazing the cattle, farming and cooking, Amma hardly got a break. Her parents-in-law were not the only ones waiting to see how the daughters-in-law would run their families; the entire village was watching as well. This put pressure on Amma, who worked day and night in a frenzy.
It was the Tamil month of Thai, mid-January to mid-February. Though the millets had been harvested and threshed, the barren millet stalks needed to be pulled out in order to pluck the vegetables from the broad beans and cowpea creepers before they withered away in the sun. These were needed all round the year to make curries, but there wasn't any time to clear the field.
While Amma's mother-in-law remarked indirectly, "The field looks odd. The stalks look like roosters beheaded in a fight," her father- in-law told her, "Why don't you hire someone to pull out the stalks, girl?" The incomplete work on the field continued to bother Amma.
Later that night, when she took her elder son who wanted to pee and went outside the house, the moon shone so brightly that it seemed like noon. It was only a couple of days after full moon's day and more than three-fourths of the moon was out. It seemed to be calling out to her with arms wide open. There was a gentle nip in the air. The bright moon banished her sleep and fatigue. She thought she could pull out some of the millet stalks now. Her son was only happy to join her, excited by the idea of playing in the moonlight.
Amma locked up her husband, who lay in a drunken stupor inside the house, hoisted her ten-month-old on to her shoulders, held her five-year-old by hand and left for the fields.
She gave the lantern to her oldest. If she walked down the street, the dogs would bark and wake up the neighbours. It would become difficult to answer their questions. She could avoid the dogs if she walked through the field behind the house and went around the residential quarters, even if it added an extra half-mile to what should have been a mile's walk.
There was just one hurdle. There was a dense, thorny patch of the invasive karuvelam tree en route, spread over an area as big as two fields. The narrow path running across it could only fit one person at a time. And on that path, the karuvelam would block the moonlight, with only dappled light filtering in through the leaves. The lantern would come in handy. Amma was scared of snakes more than the darkness.
On the other side was a tar road leading to Erode, flanked on either side by dense tamarind trees. It would take only moments to cross the road, but there was another obstacle.
Q. Why was it important to pull out the barren millet stalks?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
Between grazing the cattle, farming and cooking, Amma hardly got a break. Her parents-in-law were not the only ones waiting to see how the daughters-in-law would run their families; the entire village was watching as well. This put pressure on Amma, who worked day and night in a frenzy.
It was the Tamil month of Thai, mid-January to mid-February. Though the millets had been harvested and threshed, the barren millet stalks needed to be pulled out in order to pluck the vegetables from the broad beans and cowpea creepers before they withered away in the sun. These were needed all round the year to make curries, but there wasn't any time to clear the field.
While Amma's mother-in-law remarked indirectly, "The field looks odd. The stalks look like roosters beheaded in a fight," her father- in-law told her, "Why don't you hire someone to pull out the stalks, girl?" The incomplete work on the field continued to bother Amma.
Later that night, when she took her elder son who wanted to pee and went outside the house, the moon shone so brightly that it seemed like noon. It was only a couple of days after full moon's day and more than three-fourths of the moon was out. It seemed to be calling out to her with arms wide open. There was a gentle nip in the air. The bright moon banished her sleep and fatigue. She thought she could pull out some of the millet stalks now. Her son was only happy to join her, excited by the idea of playing in the moonlight.
Amma locked up her husband, who lay in a drunken stupor inside the house, hoisted her ten-month-old on to her shoulders, held her five-year-old by hand and left for the fields.
She gave the lantern to her oldest. If she walked down the street, the dogs would bark and wake up the neighbours. It would become difficult to answer their questions. She could avoid the dogs if she walked through the field behind the house and went around the residential quarters, even if it added an extra half-mile to what should have been a mile's walk.
There was just one hurdle. There was a dense, thorny patch of the invasive karuvelam tree en route, spread over an area as big as two fields. The narrow path running across it could only fit one person at a time. And on that path, the karuvelam would block the moonlight, with only dappled light filtering in through the leaves. The lantern would come in handy. Amma was scared of snakes more than the darkness.
On the other side was a tar road leading to Erode, flanked on either side by dense tamarind trees. It would take only moments to cross the road, but there was another obstacle.
Q. Based on the information set out in the passage, which of the following is most accurate?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
Between grazing the cattle, farming and cooking, Amma hardly got a break. Her parents-in-law were not the only ones waiting to see how the daughters-in-law would run their families; the entire village was watching as well. This put pressure on Amma, who worked day and night in a frenzy.
It was the Tamil month of Thai, mid-January to mid-February. Though the millets had been harvested and threshed, the barren millet stalks needed to be pulled out in order to pluck the vegetables from the broad beans and cowpea creepers before they withered away in the sun. These were needed all round the year to make curries, but there wasn't any time to clear the field.
While Amma's mother-in-law remarked indirectly, "The field looks odd. The stalks look like roosters beheaded in a fight," her father- in-law told her, "Why don't you hire someone to pull out the stalks, girl?" The incomplete work on the field continued to bother Amma.
Later that night, when she took her elder son who wanted to pee and went outside the house, the moon shone so brightly that it seemed like noon. It was only a couple of days after full moon's day and more than three-fourths of the moon was out. It seemed to be calling out to her with arms wide open. There was a gentle nip in the air. The bright moon banished her sleep and fatigue. She thought she could pull out some of the millet stalks now. Her son was only happy to join her, excited by the idea of playing in the moonlight.
Amma locked up her husband, who lay in a drunken stupor inside the house, hoisted her ten-month-old on to her shoulders, held her five-year-old by hand and left for the fields.
She gave the lantern to her oldest. If she walked down the street, the dogs would bark and wake up the neighbours. It would become difficult to answer their questions. She could avoid the dogs if she walked through the field behind the house and went around the residential quarters, even if it added an extra half-mile to what should have been a mile's walk.
There was just one hurdle. There was a dense, thorny patch of the invasive karuvelam tree en route, spread over an area as big as two fields. The narrow path running across it could only fit one person at a time. And on that path, the karuvelam would block the moonlight, with only dappled light filtering in through the leaves. The lantern would come in handy. Amma was scared of snakes more than the darkness.
On the other side was a tar road leading to Erode, flanked on either side by dense tamarind trees. It would take only moments to cross the road, but there was another obstacle.
Q. Why did Amma choose to walk through the field even though that took her to walk an extra half-mile?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
Between grazing the cattle, farming and cooking, Amma hardly got a break. Her parents-in-law were not the only ones waiting to see how the daughters-in-law would run their families; the entire village was watching as well. This put pressure on Amma, who worked day and night in a frenzy.
It was the Tamil month of Thai, mid-January to mid-February. Though the millets had been harvested and threshed, the barren millet stalks needed to be pulled out in order to pluck the vegetables from the broad beans and cowpea creepers before they withered away in the sun. These were needed all round the year to make curries, but there wasn't any time to clear the field.
While Amma's mother-in-law remarked indirectly, "The field looks odd. The stalks look like roosters beheaded in a fight," her father- in-law told her, "Why don't you hire someone to pull out the stalks, girl?" The incomplete work on the field continued to bother Amma.
Later that night, when she took her elder son who wanted to pee and went outside the house, the moon shone so brightly that it seemed like noon. It was only a couple of days after full moon's day and more than three-fourths of the moon was out. It seemed to be calling out to her with arms wide open. There was a gentle nip in the air. The bright moon banished her sleep and fatigue. She thought she could pull out some of the millet stalks now. Her son was only happy to join her, excited by the idea of playing in the moonlight.
Amma locked up her husband, who lay in a drunken stupor inside the house, hoisted her ten-month-old on to her shoulders, held her five-year-old by hand and left for the fields.
She gave the lantern to her oldest. If she walked down the street, the dogs would bark and wake up the neighbours. It would become difficult to answer their questions. She could avoid the dogs if she walked through the field behind the house and went around the residential quarters, even if it added an extra half-mile to what should have been a mile's walk.
There was just one hurdle. There was a dense, thorny patch of the invasive karuvelam tree en route, spread over an area as big as two fields. The narrow path running across it could only fit one person at a time. And on that path, the karuvelam would block the moonlight, with only dappled light filtering in through the leaves. The lantern would come in handy. Amma was scared of snakes more than the darkness.
On the other side was a tar road leading to Erode, flanked on either side by dense tamarind trees. It would take only moments to cross the road, but there was another obstacle.
Q. What does the word 'dappled' as used in the passage mean?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
The debate on the grave situation in India's leading universities where student leaders were being charged with sedition provided an occasion to revisit the finest elements of Indian anti-colonial nationalism. Subhas Chandra Bose believed in a nationalism that instilled a spirit of selfless service in our people and inspired their creative efforts. He steadfastly opposed the brand of nationalism that was narrow, selfish and arrogant.
The 1942 movement showed how close the Mahatma and Netaji had come in their aims and ideology and how temporary, if not fleeting, had been the parting of their ways in 1939. Every statement they made about each other from 1942 onwards was infused with deep respect.
Bose and Gandhi had their last face-to-face meeting and 'long conversation' in June 1940 before Subhas's imprisonment and daring escape. Subhas made 'a passionate appeal to Mahatma to come forward and launch his campaign of passive resistance'.
Gandhi was 'still non-committal' because he felt 'the country was not prepared for a fight'. However, 'at the end of a long and hearty talk', Gandhi told Bose that if the latter's 'efforts to win freedom for India succeeded', Gandhi's 'telegram of congratulation would be the first' his rebellious son would receive.
The same month Bose also had 'long talks' with two other key leaders — M.A. Jinnah, president of the Muslim League, and V.D. Savarkar, president of the Hindu Mahasabha. Bose was unable to bring around Jinnah to the 'idea of putting up a joint fight with the Congress, for Indian independence' even though Bose 'suggested that in the event of such a united struggle taking place, Mr. Jinnah would be the first Prime Minister of Free India'.
Bose was deeply disappointed with Savarkar who 'seemed to be oblivious of the international situation and was only thinking how Hindus could secure military training by entering Britain's army in India'. Netaji's aim was radically different. He wanted to subvert the loyalty of Indian soldiers to the British King-Emperor and replace it with a new allegiance to the cause of India's freedom. In that goal he succeeded by uniting Hindus and Muslims in his armed struggle for liberation.
Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose was the only front-rank leader of the Indian independence movement who laid down his life for his country's freedom on 18 August 1945. The younger generation in India today could learn from Mahatma Gandhi how to come to terms with the mortal end of a deathless hero. Gandhi had initially hoped that Netaji had made another great escape and that he would return to join him in the work for freedom and unity.
Q. Why, according to the author, would it be beneficial to revisit Indian anti-colonial nationalism?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
The debate on the grave situation in India's leading universities where student leaders were being charged with sedition provided an occasion to revisit the finest elements of Indian anti-colonial nationalism. Subhas Chandra Bose believed in a nationalism that instilled a spirit of selfless service in our people and inspired their creative efforts. He steadfastly opposed the brand of nationalism that was narrow, selfish and arrogant.
The 1942 movement showed how close the Mahatma and Netaji had come in their aims and ideology and how temporary, if not fleeting, had been the parting of their ways in 1939. Every statement they made about each other from 1942 onwards was infused with deep respect.
Bose and Gandhi had their last face-to-face meeting and 'long conversation' in June 1940 before Subhas's imprisonment and daring escape. Subhas made 'a passionate appeal to Mahatma to come forward and launch his campaign of passive resistance'.
Gandhi was 'still non-committal' because he felt 'the country was not prepared for a fight'. However, 'at the end of a long and hearty talk', Gandhi told Bose that if the latter's 'efforts to win freedom for India succeeded', Gandhi's 'telegram of congratulation would be the first' his rebellious son would receive.
The same month Bose also had 'long talks' with two other key leaders — M.A. Jinnah, president of the Muslim League, and V.D. Savarkar, president of the Hindu Mahasabha. Bose was unable to bring around Jinnah to the 'idea of putting up a joint fight with the Congress, for Indian independence' even though Bose 'suggested that in the event of such a united struggle taking place, Mr. Jinnah would be the first Prime Minister of Free India'.
Bose was deeply disappointed with Savarkar who 'seemed to be oblivious of the international situation and was only thinking how Hindus could secure military training by entering Britain's army in India'. Netaji's aim was radically different. He wanted to subvert the loyalty of Indian soldiers to the British King-Emperor and replace it with a new allegiance to the cause of India's freedom. In that goal he succeeded by uniting Hindus and Muslims in his armed struggle for liberation.
Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose was the only front-rank leader of the Indian independence movement who laid down his life for his country's freedom on 18 August 1945. The younger generation in India today could learn from Mahatma Gandhi how to come to terms with the mortal end of a deathless hero. Gandhi had initially hoped that Netaji had made another great escape and that he would return to join him in the work for freedom and unity.
Q. What, according to the given passage, was Bose's view in 1940 concerning Gandhi?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
The debate on the grave situation in India's leading universities where student leaders were being charged with sedition provided an occasion to revisit the finest elements of Indian anti-colonial nationalism. Subhas Chandra Bose believed in a nationalism that instilled a spirit of selfless service in our people and inspired their creative efforts. He steadfastly opposed the brand of nationalism that was narrow, selfish and arrogant.
The 1942 movement showed how close the Mahatma and Netaji had come in their aims and ideology and how temporary, if not fleeting, had been the parting of their ways in 1939. Every statement they made about each other from 1942 onwards was infused with deep respect.
Bose and Gandhi had their last face-to-face meeting and 'long conversation' in June 1940 before Subhas's imprisonment and daring escape. Subhas made 'a passionate appeal to Mahatma to come forward and launch his campaign of passive resistance'.
Gandhi was 'still non-committal' because he felt 'the country was not prepared for a fight'. However, 'at the end of a long and hearty talk', Gandhi told Bose that if the latter's 'efforts to win freedom for India succeeded', Gandhi's 'telegram of congratulation would be the first' his rebellious son would receive.
The same month Bose also had 'long talks' with two other key leaders — M.A. Jinnah, president of the Muslim League, and V.D. Savarkar, president of the Hindu Mahasabha. Bose was unable to bring around Jinnah to the 'idea of putting up a joint fight with the Congress, for Indian independence' even though Bose 'suggested that in the event of such a united struggle taking place, Mr. Jinnah would be the first Prime Minister of Free India'.
Bose was deeply disappointed with Savarkar who 'seemed to be oblivious of the international situation and was only thinking how Hindus could secure military training by entering Britain's army in India'. Netaji's aim was radically different. He wanted to subvert the loyalty of Indian soldiers to the British King-Emperor and replace it with a new allegiance to the cause of India's freedom. In that goal he succeeded by uniting Hindus and Muslims in his armed struggle for liberation.
Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose was the only front-rank leader of the Indian independence movement who laid down his life for his country's freedom on 18 August 1945. The younger generation in India today could learn from Mahatma Gandhi how to come to terms with the mortal end of a deathless hero. Gandhi had initially hoped that Netaji had made another great escape and that he would return to join him in the work for freedom and unity.
Q. What does the word 'oblivious' as used in the passage mean?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
The debate on the grave situation in India's leading universities where student leaders were being charged with sedition provided an occasion to revisit the finest elements of Indian anti-colonial nationalism. Subhas Chandra Bose believed in a nationalism that instilled a spirit of selfless service in our people and inspired their creative efforts. He steadfastly opposed the brand of nationalism that was narrow, selfish and arrogant.
The 1942 movement showed how close the Mahatma and Netaji had come in their aims and ideology and how temporary, if not fleeting, had been the parting of their ways in 1939. Every statement they made about each other from 1942 onwards was infused with deep respect.
Bose and Gandhi had their last face-to-face meeting and 'long conversation' in June 1940 before Subhas's imprisonment and daring escape. Subhas made 'a passionate appeal to Mahatma to come forward and launch his campaign of passive resistance'.
Gandhi was 'still non-committal' because he felt 'the country was not prepared for a fight'. However, 'at the end of a long and hearty talk', Gandhi told Bose that if the latter's 'efforts to win freedom for India succeeded', Gandhi's 'telegram of congratulation would be the first' his rebellious son would receive.
The same month Bose also had 'long talks' with two other key leaders — M.A. Jinnah, president of the Muslim League, and V.D. Savarkar, president of the Hindu Mahasabha. Bose was unable to bring around Jinnah to the 'idea of putting up a joint fight with the Congress, for Indian independence' even though Bose 'suggested that in the event of such a united struggle taking place, Mr. Jinnah would be the first Prime Minister of Free India'.
Bose was deeply disappointed with Savarkar who 'seemed to be oblivious of the international situation and was only thinking how Hindus could secure military training by entering Britain's army in India'. Netaji's aim was radically different. He wanted to subvert the loyalty of Indian soldiers to the British King-Emperor and replace it with a new allegiance to the cause of India's freedom. In that goal he succeeded by uniting Hindus and Muslims in his armed struggle for liberation.
Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose was the only front-rank leader of the Indian independence movement who laid down his life for his country's freedom on 18 August 1945. The younger generation in India today could learn from Mahatma Gandhi how to come to terms with the mortal end of a deathless hero. Gandhi had initially hoped that Netaji had made another great escape and that he would return to join him in the work for freedom and unity.
Q. Which of the following, according to the given passage, best describes the dealings Bose had with other key leaders?
Read the passage and answer the following question.
The debate on the grave situation in India's leading universities where student leaders were being charged with sedition provided an occasion to revisit the finest elements of Indian anti-colonial nationalism. Subhas Chandra Bose believed in a nationalism that instilled a spirit of selfless service in our people and inspired their creative efforts. He steadfastly opposed the brand of nationalism that was narrow, selfish and arrogant.
The 1942 movement showed how close the Mahatma and Netaji had come in their aims and ideology and how temporary, if not fleeting, had been the parting of their ways in 1939. Every statement they made about each other from 1942 onwards was infused with deep respect.
Bose and Gandhi had their last face-to-face meeting and 'long conversation' in June 1940 before Subhas's imprisonment and daring escape. Subhas made 'a passionate appeal to Mahatma to come forward and launch his campaign of passive resistance'.
Gandhi was 'still non-committal' because he felt 'the country was not prepared for a fight'. However, 'at the end of a long and hearty talk', Gandhi told Bose that if the latter's 'efforts to win freedom for India succeeded', Gandhi's 'telegram of congratulation would be the first' his rebellious son would receive.
The same month Bose also had 'long talks' with two other key leaders — M.A. Jinnah, president of the Muslim League, and V.D. Savarkar, president of the Hindu Mahasabha. Bose was unable to bring around Jinnah to the 'idea of putting up a joint fight with the Congress, for Indian independence' even though Bose 'suggested that in the event of such a united struggle taking place, Mr. Jinnah would be the first Prime Minister of Free India'.
Bose was deeply disappointed with Savarkar who 'seemed to be oblivious of the international situation and was only thinking how Hindus could secure military training by entering Britain's army in India'. Netaji's aim was radically different. He wanted to subvert the loyalty of Indian soldiers to the British King-Emperor and replace it with a new allegiance to the cause of India's freedom. In that goal he succeeded by uniting Hindus and Muslims in his armed struggle for liberation.
Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose was the only front-rank leader of the Indian independence movement who laid down his life for his country's freedom on 18 August 1945. The younger generation in India today could learn from Mahatma Gandhi how to come to terms with the mortal end of a deathless hero. Gandhi had initially hoped that Netaji had made another great escape and that he would return to join him in the work for freedom and unity.
Q. Which of the following best sums up the author's main idea in the given passage?
Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
The knowledge society has two very important components driven by societal transformation and wealth generation. The societal transformation is in respect of education, healthcare, agriculture and governance. These will lead to employment generation, high productivity and rural prosperity.
The task of wealth generation for the nation has to be woven around national competencies. The TIFAC task team has identified core areas that will spearhead our march towards becoming a knowledge society. The areas are: information technology, biotechnology, space technology, weather forecasting, disaster management, telemedicine and tele-education, technologies utilizing traditional knowledge, service sector and infotainment which is the emerging area resulting from convergence of information and entertainment. These core technologies, fortunately, can be interwoven by IT, a sector that took off only due to the enterprising spirit of the young.
Thus there are multiple technologies and appropriate management structures that have to work together to generate a knowledge society. With India carving a niche for itself in information technology, the country is uniquely placed to fully capitalize on the opportunity to quickly transform itself into a knowledge society. The methodology of wealth generation in these core areas and to be able to meet an export target set at $50 billion by the year 2008, especially through the IT sector, is a subject that is currently under discussion. Also being discussed is how best to simultaneously develop the capability to generate information technology products worth $30 billion domestically to pump in for societal transformation. I am glad that the Planning Commission has taken a lead in generating a roadmap for transforming India into a knowledge society. I had the opportunity to be the Chairman of the Steering Committee set up for this task.
Evolving suitable policy and administrative procedures, changes in regulatory methods, identification of partners and, most important, creation of young and dynamic leaders are the components that have to be put in place. In order to generate wealth, which is the second component for establishing a knowledge society, it is essential that simultaneously a citizen-centric approach to shaping of business policy, user-driven technology generation and intensified industry–lab–academia linkages have also to be established.
Q. Which of the following most accurately expresses the author's main idea of the passage?
Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
The knowledge society has two very important components driven by societal transformation and wealth generation. The societal transformation is in respect of education, healthcare, agriculture and governance. These will lead to employment generation, high productivity and rural prosperity.
The task of wealth generation for the nation has to be woven around national competencies. The TIFAC task team has identified core areas that will spearhead our march towards becoming a knowledge society. The areas are: information technology, biotechnology, space technology, weather forecasting, disaster management, telemedicine and tele-education, technologies utilizing traditional knowledge, service sector and infotainment which is the emerging area resulting from convergence of information and entertainment. These core technologies, fortunately, can be interwoven by IT, a sector that took off only due to the enterprising spirit of the young.
Thus there are multiple technologies and appropriate management structures that have to work together to generate a knowledge society. With India carving a niche for itself in information technology, the country is uniquely placed to fully capitalize on the opportunity to quickly transform itself into a knowledge society. The methodology of wealth generation in these core areas and to be able to meet an export target set at $50 billion by the year 2008, especially through the IT sector, is a subject that is currently under discussion. Also being discussed is how best to simultaneously develop the capability to generate information technology products worth $30 billion domestically to pump in for societal transformation. I am glad that the Planning Commission has taken a lead in generating a roadmap for transforming India into a knowledge society. I had the opportunity to be the Chairman of the Steering Committee set up for this task.
Evolving suitable policy and administrative procedures, changes in regulatory methods, identification of partners and, most important, creation of young and dynamic leaders are the components that have to be put in place. In order to generate wealth, which is the second component for establishing a knowledge society, it is essential that simultaneously a citizen-centric approach to shaping of business policy, user-driven technology generation and intensified industry–lab–academia linkages have also to be established.
Q. Why does the author think that generating wealth must be woven around national competencies?
Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
The knowledge society has two very important components driven by societal transformation and wealth generation. The societal transformation is in respect of education, healthcare, agriculture and governance. These will lead to employment generation, high productivity and rural prosperity.
The task of wealth generation for the nation has to be woven around national competencies. The TIFAC task team has identified core areas that will spearhead our march towards becoming a knowledge society. The areas are: information technology, biotechnology, space technology, weather forecasting, disaster management, telemedicine and tele-education, technologies utilizing traditional knowledge, service sector and infotainment which is the emerging area resulting from convergence of information and entertainment. These core technologies, fortunately, can be interwoven by IT, a sector that took off only due to the enterprising spirit of the young.
Thus there are multiple technologies and appropriate management structures that have to work together to generate a knowledge society. With India carving a niche for itself in information technology, the country is uniquely placed to fully capitalize on the opportunity to quickly transform itself into a knowledge society. The methodology of wealth generation in these core areas and to be able to meet an export target set at $50 billion by the year 2008, especially through the IT sector, is a subject that is currently under discussion. Also being discussed is how best to simultaneously develop the capability to generate information technology products worth $30 billion domestically to pump in for societal transformation. I am glad that the Planning Commission has taken a lead in generating a roadmap for transforming India into a knowledge society. I had the opportunity to be the Chairman of the Steering Committee set up for this task.
Evolving suitable policy and administrative procedures, changes in regulatory methods, identification of partners and, most important, creation of young and dynamic leaders are the components that have to be put in place. In order to generate wealth, which is the second component for establishing a knowledge society, it is essential that simultaneously a citizen-centric approach to shaping of business policy, user-driven technology generation and intensified industry–lab–academia linkages have also to be established.
Q. What does the word 'enterprising' as used in the passage mean?
Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
The knowledge society has two very important components driven by societal transformation and wealth generation. The societal transformation is in respect of education, healthcare, agriculture and governance. These will lead to employment generation, high productivity and rural prosperity.
The task of wealth generation for the nation has to be woven around national competencies. The TIFAC task team has identified core areas that will spearhead our march towards becoming a knowledge society. The areas are: information technology, biotechnology, space technology, weather forecasting, disaster management, telemedicine and tele-education, technologies utilizing traditional knowledge, service sector and infotainment which is the emerging area resulting from convergence of information and entertainment. These core technologies, fortunately, can be interwoven by IT, a sector that took off only due to the enterprising spirit of the young.
Thus there are multiple technologies and appropriate management structures that have to work together to generate a knowledge society. With India carving a niche for itself in information technology, the country is uniquely placed to fully capitalize on the opportunity to quickly transform itself into a knowledge society. The methodology of wealth generation in these core areas and to be able to meet an export target set at $50 billion by the year 2008, especially through the IT sector, is a subject that is currently under discussion. Also being discussed is how best to simultaneously develop the capability to generate information technology products worth $30 billion domestically to pump in for societal transformation. I am glad that the Planning Commission has taken a lead in generating a roadmap for transforming India into a knowledge society. I had the opportunity to be the Chairman of the Steering Committee set up for this task.
Evolving suitable policy and administrative procedures, changes in regulatory methods, identification of partners and, most important, creation of young and dynamic leaders are the components that have to be put in place. In order to generate wealth, which is the second component for establishing a knowledge society, it is essential that simultaneously a citizen-centric approach to shaping of business policy, user-driven technology generation and intensified industry–lab–academia linkages have also to be established.
Q. Why does the author believe that India is poised to "quickly transform itself into a knowledge society"?
Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
The knowledge society has two very important components driven by societal transformation and wealth generation. The societal transformation is in respect of education, healthcare, agriculture and governance. These will lead to employment generation, high productivity and rural prosperity.
The task of wealth generation for the nation has to be woven around national competencies. The TIFAC task team has identified core areas that will spearhead our march towards becoming a knowledge society. The areas are: information technology, biotechnology, space technology, weather forecasting, disaster management, telemedicine and tele-education, technologies utilizing traditional knowledge, service sector and infotainment which is the emerging area resulting from convergence of information and entertainment. These core technologies, fortunately, can be interwoven by IT, a sector that took off only due to the enterprising spirit of the young.
Thus there are multiple technologies and appropriate management structures that have to work together to generate a knowledge society. With India carving a niche for itself in information technology, the country is uniquely placed to fully capitalize on the opportunity to quickly transform itself into a knowledge society. The methodology of wealth generation in these core areas and to be able to meet an export target set at $50 billion by the year 2008, especially through the IT sector, is a subject that is currently under discussion. Also being discussed is how best to simultaneously develop the capability to generate information technology products worth $30 billion domestically to pump in for societal transformation. I am glad that the Planning Commission has taken a lead in generating a roadmap for transforming India into a knowledge society. I had the opportunity to be the Chairman of the Steering Committee set up for this task.
Evolving suitable policy and administrative procedures, changes in regulatory methods, identification of partners and, most important, creation of young and dynamic leaders are the components that have to be put in place. In order to generate wealth, which is the second component for establishing a knowledge society, it is essential that simultaneously a citizen-centric approach to shaping of business policy, user-driven technology generation and intensified industry–lab–academia linkages have also to be established.
Q. Apart from wealth generation, what else is being discussed to bring about societal transformation in India?